.
Mates of the Greats
Gauguin the banker thought
Painting while married was
Quite a nice hobby
And so did his wife.
But then in Tahiti
Paul met with a sweetie
And lived on papaya
The rest of his life.
Pity poor Vincent, he
Starved and he painted, and
Cut off his ear while
He gazed at the stars.
A guy’s only human—
Vince wanted a woman,
But maybe he should have
Stayed out of the bars.
A life full of conflict
Had Edouard Manet.
Married, he met and
Loved Berthe Morisot.
Though wed to his brother
She would have no other—
They’re buried together
At Passy, you know.
Picasso, Picasso
Had dozens of women
And took his revenge
Every time he’d abstract.
He gave them three noses,
Impossible poses;
And smiled while he painted
And that is a fact.
The nude on the staircase
Of one Marcel Duchamp
Was spread on the stairs’ steps
Quite strangely, it’s true.
Did Marcel need glasses
When viewing the lasses,
Or was he just joking
With me and with you?
Famous for women was
Willem De Kooning, who
Plastered his canvas
With ladies of note.
At least that is what they
Would have you believe—hey,
Art critics are noted
For getting your goat.
Andy reduced all the
Women he painted to
Patterns of dots in
Bright colors on walls.
That’s Warhol the Freaky—
Aesthetically creaky;
No wonder Solanas
Pumped lead in his balls.
.
.
Sally Cook is both a poet and a painter of magical realism. Her poems have also appeared in Blue Unicorn, First Things, Chronicles, The Formalist Portal, Light Quarterly, National Review, Pennsylvania Review, TRINACRIA, and other electronic and print journals. A six-time nominee for a Pushcart award, in 2007 Cook was featured poet in The Raintown Review. She has received several awards from the World Order of Narrative and Formalist Poets, and her Best American Poetry Challenge-winning poem “As the Underworld Turns” was published in Pool.
What a delightful poem…thank you for sharing!
Allegra, I am so glad you enjoyed this bit of silliness on my part.!
Marvellous! And well researched.
I’m in the midst of a stressful writing piece and this was the perfect release valve.
Thanks for the read.
Sometimes things can get too awfully serious can’t they?
There’s a real zing in each of these little vignettes. The concluding one, with Val Solanas blasting Warhol, is hysterically funny!
Dactylics are always fun. Notice also that Cook doesn’t allow some definitional straitjacket of “meter” to choke the natural flow of idiom. She’ll drop or add syllables wherever the rhythm and sense of a line require it — a freedom that traditional poets have always enjoyed.
The three illustrations that Evan has chosen show the tendency of modernism to mock and degrade femininity.
So true, Joe — so true.
What a great set of poems depicting the ladies in the lives of great artists, or the lack thereof! I now believe I have a better grasp of both their lives and their art with your humorous disclosure of their fantasies, foibles, and fumblings. The only one I knew about was Gaugin who ended up eating your brilliant thought of “papaya” for the rest of his life. The very thought makes me quiver with laughter. These are treasures that bring art and poetry close together.
Even humor has its serious side!
I love this — it’s fascinating in more ways than one! It’s a group of stories, well- and humorously-told. Also, the unusual rhyme scheme is fun and and interesting.
They are, in essence, little parables, aren’t they? (Pardon me for doing a bit of crowing._
Perhaps the funniest and most engaging poem by Sally I have ever read, and that’s saying a lot. She is the hot-spot where mastery meets mystery, and the rest of us can only sit tight and take in the glistery heights.
Kip, of all the compliments you’ve given me over the years,, this is by far one of the best. Glistery Heights, indeed ! Is that by any chance a suburb of Morningside Heights?
It must be, Sally.
I really enjoyed the kind of galloping beat to this poem, such fun to read and very amusing too. Thank you Sally.
A compliment from such as you means a great deal, my dear. Thank you very much.
Dear Sally, I love this thoroughly engaging poem for the toe-tapping meter and the educative and highly entertaining message. Only an artist of your wise eye and talent could paint such vivid pictures. Thank you!
Oh, Susan, how did I know you would fall for this one like a ton of bricks?: Come on, I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.
To Susan J B -, I meant to say which if these little darlings is your favorite? All right, I’ll go first. My favorite is my sly comment on Vincent Van G. that ”maybe he should have stayed out of the bars.”
And maybe he should have left his ears alone. Even a painter has use for them on occasion.
Dear Sally, to answer your question, Vincent is up there, and CB has added to the humor with his witty remark on his ears. But my number one would have to be Picasso. “He gave them three noses, /Impossible poses;/And smiled while/he painted/And that is a fact.” had me laughing out loud… as did your Andy Warhol depiction. Sally, I just love your humor and your talent!
Beautiful little bios. Here’s a challenge: do something similar about Damien Hirst or Jackson Pollock! I really enjoyed this piece.
Dear David ==Thank you for both your comment and challenge. I Know nothing of Mr. Hirst, but am sure there is nothing worth saying about Mr. Pollock.
To Susan JB – avd Kip –
How about:
He worked on that ear like a dog with a bone,
Which gave the poor ear a melliloulous (sp) tone
And totally screwed up the rest of this poem.
Sally, I love the alternative ending – hilarious. It’s inspired one from me:
When glistening lips beckoned
He only half listened
To songs of seduction
And missed out on bliss.
Good work, my good friend!
How could I have missed this one? You definitely have the eye of an eagle.